Had I Known How to Save a Life
by london dreaming
Summary: Peeta's older brother regrets it, but back on the home front, he struggles with watching his brother fight to death on television. In other words, scenes from the Hunger Games through Peeta's brother's eyes.


Walking back from the Justice Building, I begin to regret it. I regret not saying a better goodbye, and most of all, I regret not volunteering. I can hear the whistle of the train from behind me, and while Hodgson turns around, I just find myself regretting everything. It's such a long walk, but at the same time, just across the square.

No one says anything.

Next to me, I see the Everdeen's making a similar trek across the District. Prim is crying so hard, that Gale, Katniss' friend and trading partner picks her up and carries her away, like she weighs nothing more than a small chicken. He looks like he has tears in eyes, as well, and I realize that Katniss and Gale were probably more than just trading and hunting partners. I could see them in love, with plans to get married and have a life together. And those plans were simply cut short.

The Everdeens are Seam, and we, the Mellarks, are Merchant, but today, we have the entire world in common.

"Katniss will make it back," my mother says, "She's a fighter. There's no need for them to be worried."

My loyalty to my brother flairs, and I wonder how in the world my own mother could even think to mutter anything of the sort. But then it hits me. Peeta's just another tribute, but Katniss has experience. She must know how to survive in the woods, with all that trading and hunting she's been doing.

"Yeah," I find myself agreeing with my mother, "Yeah, Katniss probably will come home."

* * *

"How are you guys holding up?" Aveline asks me after school the next day, "Is everything alright?"

Her blue eyes look up at me with pity, as if she's trying to say she's sorry. But she doesn't speak right away, allowing me time to respond.

I shake my head at her, "It's okay." The lie falls effortlessly off my lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispers again. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I know she knows immediately that she can see right through the lie.

"If there's anything I can do, just, just tell me, alright?" Aveline sympathetically murmurs. I just nod, before burying my face in her hair.

"Oh, Emmer," she murmurs, "I just can't imagine."

"It sucks," I say simply.

"I know," Aveline agrees, "I know."

"He's not coming back, Aveline," I admit quietly.

"Emmer, you don't know that," she says.

I shake my head, "He has no skills to help him. We're baker's kids. We can make bread and frost cookies and cakes. How's that going to save his life in the arena? Unless the arena is a giant bakery, it isn't."

Aveline doesn't respond to that comment, instead choosing to brush her lips against mine.

"It will be okay, Emmer," she repeats, "It will be okay."

Aveline and I watch the parade together. We sit in silence in her parent's home, grasping each other's hands. The television's on, but muted. Aveline's free hand sits tightly on the remote, terrified that the Peacekeepers may show up, ready to turn up the volume at any second.

"I can't watch," I tell her, as the parade begins. "I don't want to see this. I don't want to see my brother dressed up in some hideous coal miner outfit without a chance in the world. I don't want to see him die on national television, Aveline. I don't want this. I don't want any of this."

"Emmer," Aveline says quietly, "Emmer... I know, I know."

"I should have volunteered for him!" I cry, "I should have done what Katniss did. Why didn't I volunteer? It should be me out there, not him."

"It's okay, Emmer," she comforts me softly, "it's okay."

For the first time since the reaping, I let tears stream down my face. Aveline quickly wipes them away, the same way I did to her when her Grandmother passed away just last year.

The anthem for the parade starts, and I close my eyes, but a few seconds later, Aveline cries out.

"Emmer, open your eyes! They're on fire! Katniss and Peeta are on fire!"

* * *

Aveline waits for me outside of the school yard. She's a year younger than me, the year between Peeta and me. I trudge along, desperate for the end of the relentless comforting looks and pats, as if people understood.

"Emmer! Emmer!" she cries out, and I turn towards her. She sprints towards me, and I can't help but grin at her.

"Emmer, my mother wants to know if you'll eat with us tonight," she explains, "You don't have to, of course, but I didn't know... I thought maybe you'd like to get away from everything going in your house right now. I mean, there's no..." she struggles for the word, "coverage tonight."

It takes me no time to make my decision, "Of course," I say, truly grateful.

"Just come over around five," Aveline tells me.

"Tell your mother I'll bring bread," I tell her.

Aveline looks hopeful, "Freshly baked?"

"Mmm," I respond, knowing her weakness for warm, chewy, fresh bread. She steps up to kiss me, and I allow the feeling of her soft lips against mine to consume me. Aveline steps back after a moment and grins at me.

And for the first time since the reaping, I feel alright.

* * *

Feeling alright doesn't last, of course, and two days later, I don't watch the interviews. I don't want to know the names of the people who may become my brother's murderer. I don't want to see the people that my brother may kill. I would rather be left in the dark, as ignorance is bliss.

Instead, I sneak out with Aveline. Our lips meet over and over again, and I find myself pressing her against the school building. The crime we're committing together is what makes it feel right. Aveline's hand reaches under my shirt, and I move my lips to her neck.

"Emmer," she lowly moans in my ear as I run my tongue across her collarbone.

"HEY!" We jump apart instantly, needing no more of a warning.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a Peacekeeper snarls, "Don't you know what's on right now? This is required viewing time, did you know that?"

Aveline grabs my hand tightly, and I can feel the fear as she shakes beside me.

"I'm so sorry, sir," I stammer, "I just..."

I feel the light hit my face as the Peacekeeper shines his flashlight on the both of us. With the increased light, I can see his face noticeably soften.

"Oh. It's you," he says, "Your brother's in the Games, isn't he?"

"Yeah," I say dully, "Peeta."

"Listen, kid. I'll let you both off the hook this time, but this time only. Now get gone. Before I change my mind."

I nod, "Thank you, sir."

"Don't let me catch you doing it again."

"You won't, sir," Aveline speaks for the first time, "I promise you that."

"Good," the Peacekeeper grunts, "Now get gone."

And we run off, holding hands and laughing in relief.

Aveline turns to me, "That was really lucky, Emmer, that was really lucky. We could have been punished."

"I know," I say to her.

At least some odds are in my favor, I can't help thinking.

* * *

My mother's steaming when I come home. Furious at me for getting caught ditching mandatory viewings, and furious for Peeta at his little announcement.

But it's Hodgson who tells me the news.

"Our brother's got a crush on a little Seam girl," he grins, "and not just any Seam girl. His District partner."

I stare at him in disbelief, but my mother confirms it. I try to picture Katniss, who traded with my father at our back door many, many times, yet an image of her with Peeta does not appear. They don't seem compatible or to have anything in common. Katniss is from the Seam, and Peeta is Merchant. But then I remember that Katniss' own mother grew up in a Merchant family. My mind quickly shifts to Gale, who I'm sure was not just a trading/hunting partner. They were far more, I'm sure.

"After everything I've ever told him about the deceitfulness of Seam girls. After everything I've tried to drill into him. A Seam girl." My mother lets out a sigh, "Does he not understand? He may think that this is the golden exception, but if he makes it back - or worse, if she makes it back - then he'll think it's okay to date whoever he so pleases. And if Katniss makes it back, she'll think she can marry whoever she wants."

"She'd be a Victor, though, Mother," Hodgson points out.

"She'd still be from the Seam," my mother growls, "And if Peeta makes it back, it would be especially important that he marries well. Because anyone he joins himself to has more than just a bakery riding on the line. Peeta will be set for life. As for Katniss... that law-breaking, little scumbag..."

"I've always been under the impression she had something with her hunting partner," my father says mildly.

"It doesn't matter," my mother snaps, "she's from the Seam, and any girl from the Seam is below you." She turns to both Emmer and I, glaring.

"As is any girl who agrees to sneak out with you, Emmer." This time I'm the only one to feel her glare.

"Yes, ma'am," I say before quietly retreating carefully to the safety of my room.

* * *

Eventually, we reach a routine to smoothly run the bakery without Peeta. It was always his job to frost the cakes, and help bake the bread, but we figure things out. Hodgson frosts the cakes, which look half-assed in comparison to the brilliant designs Peeta used to paint on his. I take over the majority of Peeta's other duties, like baking and sweeping. Neither of us have the heart to complain about the increased workload.

Gale seems to have done the same thing with his trading business. He comes to our back door, quieter than ever, and trades rabbit with my father.

"No squirrel?" my father asks one day.

Gale shakes his head, "No, sir. That was always Katniss' job."

"Oh," my father says quietly. He gives Gale some bread and Gale leaves silently looking troubled.

My mother isn't around, but my father is still quiet when he suggests we take a loaf of bread to Katniss' family. Hodgson and I simply stare at him, shocked by his sudden charity.

An alarm sounds alerting of us of burnt bread, and I realize that we aren't alone in our suffering.

* * *

I hear about the collection the Seam people have to help Peeta and Katniss. It touches my heart, even though I know that it's mainly for Katniss. And for the first time, I brave the Hob.

I rarely enter the Seam. It's foreign, and I know I'm as incongruous as the rare Capitol visitor. It offers me a rare chance to see the luxury I live in, even if it's still humbled compared to other Districts and the Capitol. Coal dust coats the whole place, and I cough slightly.

The second I step inside the dusty, old warehouse, I know I'm out of place. The only other non-Seam person here is Darius, the Peacekeeper. He appears to be a regular though, judging by his apparent acceptance.

"Can I help you?" the lady in the stand nearest to me sneers.

"I, uh, heard there was a collection," I say uncertainly, "for, um, Katniss."

She nods, "Over there. In Greasy Sae's stall." She points to a stall across the Hob, where several people sit, eating and laughing.

I head over there, quickly, while people stare at me from all directions. I reach her stall, and dig in my pockets for the coins.

"You here to donate?" she asks, and I nod. "Your brother's in the games."

"Yeah," I nod, "Peeta." I drop the coins in the jar and turn to leave. It's clear to me that people care far more about Katniss, and understandably. Seam kids go through this every year. It's rare for a Merchant kid to be reaped. Yet Peeta was.

"Hey," Greasy Sae calls to me, "We're rooting for him, too."

* * *

Katniss can't save my brother, I realize. Aveline tries to comfort me, tries to tell me everything will be okay, but we both know it's not going to happen. Katniss' healing skills are sub-par in comparison to her mother's, and Peeta's wound is simply too infected and too deep.

"I don't understand how the girl whose mother has saved the entire District at one point or another can't even save Peeta," Hodgson mutters. His anger is misallocated, I know, but it's there nonetheless.

"Worthless little Seam girl," my mother agrees, "letting my son dies."

Always the voice of reason, my father shakes his head, "She's doing everything she can. Katniss has done a lot for the rest of her family."

"Yeah, well, it isn't enough." The words leave my lips before I have time to process what I'm saying.

On the screen, a world away, Peeta seems to know his death is soon, too. He looks at Katniss with a sad, desperate look, and I wonder if he's thinking about us.

"My youngest son," my mother says quietly. I look at her strangely, slightly surprised by her rare show of affection. "My littlest son."

"Maybe he'll get better," Aveline says I hopefully. I simply nod, too distraught to fully understand.

And then we hear the announcement.

* * *

Maybe Katniss does love my brother, I think while being forced to watch the Games during school. Katniss runs across the arena, her package of what must be my brother's medicine securely in her hand. She's suffered her own injuries, and has seen her own share of pain.

And as they play a recap of the kisses Peeta and Katniss share in that little cave of theirs, I start to picture Katniss as my sister-in-law. I can finally start to picture a life that could be shared between the two of them, now that they may actually make it out of the arena. They would live in the Victor's Village, of course, in one of the big houses. But they would eventually have kids and would come over for dinner once in a while, if my mother could ever overcome her silly, old prejudices. It seems like a nice, promising life.

She smears the medicine across my brother's wound, and I think Katniss might be able to take care of them. And if Peeta loves her, good. I'm glad. I would be happy for them, if they could just make it home.

"We have two tributes who have made it rather far this year, don't we?" the teacher comments happily.

Everyone glances at me, ready to gauge my reaction, and I grin. They have made it far, I realize. And they may be able to come home. If they come home, they'll be riches and food and feasts. There hasn't been a Victor from District Twelve in nearly twenty-five years. But my own little brother may be one.

The anthem of Panem plays against the background one more time, and the screen goes blank.

"Back the class," the teacher announces. Her voice returns to the same dull monotone she uses for teaching.

But for the first time, I allow myself to picture his safe return to District Twelve.

* * *

They come to do interviews. The final eight means interviews, and both Peeta and Katniss have made the final eight. Aveline sits shyly beside me, but they insist on interviewing her, as well. She's such a good friend of the family, they say. But the questions they ask are easy, so it doesn't really matter.

"Do you think Peeta could win the Games?" they ask Aveline, and she nods.

"I know Peeta could win. And I know he will," Aveline tells the interviewer strongly.

"And your Emmer's girlfriend?" they ask.

Aveline blushes, and glances at me, "Uh... yeah. Yeah, I'm his girlfriend."

The newness of the term brings a blush to her face again, but a feeling of joy and happiness take over me, and I realize this is the happiest I've been since Peeta was reaped.

But then they turn to me, ready to force me to talk about the subject I've been determined to avoid.

I make sure to mention that I wish I had volunteered for Peeta. I mention over and over again that I regret it, but I'm happy with his progress and I'm glad he's been able to meet with Katniss.

"If you could tell your brother anything, tell us what it would be?" the interviewer demands me.

"I... I would tell him to keep fighting, to keep trying," I say coolly, "And that we're all still here, waiting for him."

* * *

Word spreads that they have to replace Peeta's leg. It's a bit strange to imagine, not having a real leg anymore, but we accept it. He's a victor, now, and Victors are allowed the best the Capitol has to offer.

"A fake leg," Aveline marvels, "that will work and everything. Imagine that."

I grin at her, "He's coming home, soon, you know."

Aveline stares up at me with her big, blue eyes and her face turns serious.

"He won't be the same, Emmer," she warns.

"Peeta? Peeta won't be the same? What are you talking about?" My face wrinkles in confusion.

"Emmer, he'll be changed. He's seen a whole other side of Panem. He's been the Capitol where everyone's rich and carefree. That's enough to change a man," she tells me, "but even more than, that, he's killed now, Peeta. He's seen death, and he's almost died. He's spent nearly two weeks in an arena not knowing if he would make it out alive. And that will really change a person, Emmer."

As I let her words sink in, I realize the truth. My little brother will no longer be a little brother to me. He'll have changed and grown, and there were changes here in District Twelve, too.

"I guess we don't even really need him at the bakery anymore," I say quietly, allowing the full realization to spread through me.

"You don't, do you?" Aveline confirms, "He'll be gone again, soon. The Victory Tour. And then he'll have to mentor."

"I never even thought about that," I whisper.

"Oh, Emmer," Aveline murmurs.

* * *

They designate two houses in the Victor's Village, one for Katniss, and one for Peeta. Then they come to get Peeta's stuff. They're Capitol citizens, but not Peacekeepers. They have a certain arrogance to them, as if they know they're better than us because they've never worked a day in their lives.

My father gruffly leads them up the stairs to get Peeta's few belongings. Peeta's clothes are sorted into things that fit and things that don't, but the Capitol people put it all in the same box. He shows them the bed built for him, but they say Peeta's new home comes complete with furniture. They don't even take the old comforter that my grandmother quilted for him. That too, is included with Peeta's new life, they claim.

"Any other personal belongings?" they ask, and Hodgson and I show them the few other belongings that are solely Peeta's. It's a few books, an old, rubber ball and a few childhood toys.

All of his stuff only fills one box, and they keep looking around for more.

"Anything else?" they press, but my father shakes his head. Even for my family, a privileged, Merchant family, personal belongings are few and far between.

Then, as they're about to leave, my father stops them.

"There's this," he says, hoisting one of the frosting kits into the single box. "He'll want this."

* * *

My brother doesn't seem real when I finally see him. He seems more like an apparition, so changed and altered. But he's Peeta, and when he steps off the train, he's grasping Katniss' hand and I swear I've never seen him that happy in my entire life.

And when Katniss drops Peeta's hand to run for Prim, I watch their careful, happy reunion. Prim was the original reason Katniss was determined to win, and she did it. The little girl didn't lose a sister, after all.

Peeta walks towards us, a smile sprawled across his face.

"Welcome home, son," my father says brightly, and I nod.

"Welcome home, Peeta," I agree, grabbing my younger brother for quick hug.

"I bet you're glad to be back," Hodgson says quickly.

Peeta nods quickly, "More than you ever know. I'm so, so glad to be home."

He continues to speak quietly to my father, Hodgson, and even my mother, who has the decency to wait to lecture him about Katniss until later. Of course, the cameras could influence that, too. They're all over the platform, filming every aspect of our reunions.

I turn back to see Katniss greet her mother, and Mrs. Everdeen speaks.

"Katniss, don't you want to see your cousins?" Mrs. Everdeen asks, "They've been waiting so long for you."

Out of curiosity, I find myself turning to see who her cousins are. They aren't her cousins, I realize. It's Gale, her longtime hunting partner, surrounded by a woman and children who must be his mother and siblings. A glance at Katniss' face shows me exactly how surprised how she is. It isn't the only emotion displayed on her face, of course. She recovers quickly, and goes to greet them, as well.

And soon enough, she returns her attention back on Peeta, and all of us are shepherded back into the Justice building where the first of many celebratory feasts are to be held. Katniss and Peeta return to grasping hands, smiling at each other and laughing quietly.

But whenever she turns her attention back to Gale, the anger on her face is unforgettable.

* * *

_A/N: This is only my second Hunger Games fanfic, but I rather like the way it turned out. I've always just been so fascinated by the idea of Peeta's brothers, and I wanted to tell one of their points of view. And it has a touch of romance, hopefully not too cheesy._

_The title comes from How to Save a Life by The Fray. I thought it was fitting, as it was the song I listened to most while writing this, and Emmer regrets not volunteering. Also, it's a bit symbolic of the suffering Peeta goes through, with the implied impending disappointment of Katniss not actually being in love with him. _

_Hodgson is the name of a type of flour, while Emmer is the name of a type of wheat grown in Italy, I believe. Anyways, I hope you liked the fic, and constructive criticism is always welcome! _


End file.
